


Pomegranate Stains

by Lightning of Farosh (Medea_Nunc_Sum)



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Animal Transformation, Blood, Copious amount of Unnecessary Symbolism, Dragons, Gen, Hyrule-Centric, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Legend-centric, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Misunderstandings, Positive Hyrule Fic, Smart Hyrule, the dark world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:35:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22386565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medea_Nunc_Sum/pseuds/Lightning%20of%20Farosh
Summary: The magic of the Dark Word was not kind, it was not gentle, and Legend had never been one to forgive himself for the things he never managed to become.
Relationships: Hyrule & Legend (Linked Universe)
Comments: 31
Kudos: 272





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 新年快乐
> 
> it's the year of the rat

Legend stepped through the portal that created the bridge between his land and the Dark World and flinched at the smell of winter rot that sat heavy on the air. Dark clouds swirled in the sky, mixing like some foul, old potion that threatened to dump its acidic contents on the creatures below. The taste of burnt coffee grounds stuck to the back of his tongue and sunk into his veins to create a strange caffeine that sucked out his energy to make it its own.

Something dragged nails along the surface of his skin and laughed from beneath the stone of the pyramid, from the wind, from the sky. “Watch your step,” he said to the other heroes as they made their way through.

Wind winced, breathing through his mouth as he turned sea-sick green, Time and Wild grimaced, Twilight’s nose wrinkled at the stench, though he was otherwise unbothered, Four sighed as if it was what he’d been expecting all this time, and Warriors pulled his scarf over the lower part of his face.

Hyrule’s shoulders jerked as soon as the air touched his skin. Eyes clouding over, brow furrowed, he looked as though his thoughts were an overgrown jungle and even if someone picked up an axe they would never, in a hundred years, be able to make it through the first wall of vines. Shadows reached for him, spreading their hungry fingers and ready to pluck him away from their group and pull him into their suffocating arms—

“Hey,” Legend grabbed him by the elbow.

Oil-like air crackled along Hyrule’s skin, clinging to him, consuming him. It snapped desperate teeth to get the Hero of Legend away. _Ours_ , it hissed, _ours, ours. Get off_.

“Hyrule?”

“Sorry,” Hyrule said, voice sounding as though it was coming from somewhere far away. “I thought, for a second...” He trailed off and swayed.

Howls rose from the woods and broken villages. It sounded like victory, it sounded like bloodlust.

Legend reached into one of his many pouches and dug through the rings and bracelets to dig out a small marble-shaped object. Crackles of blue lightning struck through the purple clouds spinning below the surface, igniting the small gold moon and galaxy hidden in its depths. He wondered if the stars inside it hid a whole universe, whether there was life in the palm of his hand that was so small but so _big_.

“Here,” Grasping Hyrule’s hand, Legend opened his fingers, and dropped the Moon Pearl into his palm. “Take this.”

Hyrule jerked when it touched his skin, breathing in—

It was like watching the thaw of winter pass by in seconds rather than weeks. Shadows fled from the lines of his face, the colour returned to his skin, and sunlight chased away the storm clouds in his eyes. “Thank you,” Hyrule rolled the pearl in his palm. He stared at the stars, tracing constellations he’d never seen before.

The stars stared back.

“What is it?” Hyrule looked away first, not willing to keep up the staring contest with infinity.

“It’s a Moon Pearl,” Legend said, “It’ll protect you from Ganon’s magic.”

There was a blink. “Huh.”

“What?”

Hyrule cupped his hands around the pearl and held it close to his chest. “Nothing, I guess...” he sighed. “It’s just been a while; I’d forgotten what it felt like.”

“Well,” Legend clapped him on the shoulder, pulling him towards the rest of the heroes waiting by the edge of the pyramid to make their descent. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

Shrugging, Hyrule’s brow stayed furrowed, eyes still shadowed. “I suppose so,” he said and opened his mouth to say more but shut himself off.

Four sidled up beside them, looking around Hyrule’s arm to peer at the precious item cupped in his palms. “What’s that?”

“Moon Pearl,” Legend told him. “I don’t know how big the aura is, but it’ll help to keep us safe from Ganon’s magic.” _Hopefully_.

“Moon Pearls?” Four blinked and frowned. “Ganon?”

With a wide gesture to the world around them, Legend sighed. “This is his handiwork,” he said. “After being sealed in the Sacred Realm, he corrupted it into this; the Dark World.”

“Well,” Four shouldered off his pack to dig through it. “There’s nothing I can do about that, but...” He pulled out a small velvet bag. “I think I have enough Moon Pearls for all of us.”

Darkness shifted at the edge of the Pyramid, two red eyes watching. Waiting. A flash of silver, the glow of a wand—

Legend reached for his sword, shoving Hyrule to his side. “Get down!”

Stone exploded beneath them, ground bursting upwards in jagged chunks of rocks and magic. Legend grunted as it launched him into the sky, pounded against his eardrums with hollow, metal batons, and sent him plummeting to the ground below. Wood cracked, splintered, and snapped under his back, catching his arms, his legs, his hair just enough that when he hit the ground all the air punched from his lungs.

 _Well_ , Legend thought as darkness coiled around his vision, _fuck_.

He woke to dirt in his face and buzzing in his skull.

Pain found him and it was drenched in the shadows of the Dark World, fangs gleaming purple and blue and saturated in all the colours of a sunset an island never saw again.

 _I’m coming for you_ , it said, and was blinding.

Legend looked away.

Magic ripped open his ribcage to bare his frantic, rabbit heart. It took his sinews and stretched them like the strings of a harp. Fingers plucked across their surface, forcing them to tell of the past and dreams and wishes.

They sang of lonely stars, of a seagull’s cries, of being beaten down and rising again and again and _again_.

 _We are so tired,_ the heartstrings said.

 _Then rest_ , Truth told them.

Legend closed his eyes. The dark world swirled around him, biting at his flesh and digging into his bones. It ripped apart his arms and legs, his shoulders and spine. Glass shattered and reformed, stitched into the back of his throat while gold spun around his lengthening fingers.

Talons dug into the dead earth, a long tail whipped out and shattered one of the dried trees into splinters. His nose grew longer and longer, teeth sharpening into daggers, horns curling out of his skull.

Legend twisted as his vertebrae became ten, became twelve, became twenty. He snarled and snapped his jaws, opened his mouth and—

A dragon roared his agony to the sky.

An eternity, a second, an hour all passed together as he curled up on the grass, breathing through the pain.

Not wanting to move, Legend rested with his muzzle on the ground, his eyes on the trees. Birds that had made their homes in the branches fled long ago, and nothing dared to peek out of the underbrush. He felt his extra set of legs, his folded, uncooperative wings, and stared down at the gold and silver rings that encircled every single one of his log, spindly fingers. He knew all of them, of course; they were _his_ , after all, but he hadn’t been wearing them.

_The Dark World will reveal the truth of your heart._

_Fuck off,_ he snapped at the voice that whispered from the depths of his memories and bit down on the bracelet around his wrist, trying to tug it off.

It wouldn’t budge.

oOo

Hyrule brushed his fingers against the pearl that sat in his pocket. It thrummed with heavy cosmic magic beneath his fingers, pulsing with all the chaotic, burning love of the stars. Dried grass and leaves cracked beneath his heel, their pieces scattering into the wind and he ignored the voice in the back of his head that reminded him of his home, of his world, and focused on the backs of his companions.

(Withered, twisted trees stared at him with mournful faces, begging for life and rainwater, hoping for a miracle.)

Time and Twilight led the way, Warriors a step behind. They had placed Hyrule in the middle while Wind, Wild, and Four took up the rear. They could have split up to cover more distance, but everyone had vetoed that pretty quickly. The shadows were too long, the howls of the beasts too plentiful.

_“None of us know this place,” Time had said, “And, until we find Legend, it would be better to stick together.”_

Bitter, hungry, winter cries drifted from the woods, eyes watching from the darkness.

Hyrule stared back, daring them to come closer. His sword ached against his spine; silver-steel hot beneath his touch, burning with bloodlust. Teeth made of dark magic pushed against his skin, trying to worm its way into his flesh to build an infested home inside his heart.

Magic, strengthened by the pearl, hissed and snapped back, guarding its territory with fierce scavenger fangs. 

There was nothing in this land except for death and decay. Somewhere deep inside his heart, Hyrule wondered if this was what had awaited his home if hadn't saved Impa. If he had told her _'no'_ and to find someone else.

He shivered. Everything felt broken and numb, his skin cold, his veins sluggish. The world moved around him in blurs and sparks as if he was too slow to catch up. An ancient ache settled in his heart, one that had taken a rest recently but now, surrounded by bigger, larger predators once more, woke up.

 _Pay attention,_ it hissed in the back of his mind. _Pay attention or **die**._

A thunderous roar shook the canopy of the dark trees and birds took to the sky, calling out a warning to run.

 _Hide, hide, you must hide,_ they cried. _Here comes something dangerous. Here comes something to fear._

Hyrule turned towards the sound without thinking, eyes wide.

Beasts burst from the darkness. Dogs and lizards, bears and stags. A fox slipped through Four’s legs, a bat screeched at Warriors to get out of its way. Time and Twilight raised their shields—but the animals continued on, ignoring the trespassers to find some place else to hide away.

“What was that?”

No one answered Twilight, their hands going to their swords instead.

Time frowned. “Come on,” he said, motioning them onward. The others fell into step behind him.

“You know,” Wild whispered, “most people run _away_ from possible danger.”

Pushing past the first tree, Time lifted his sword and continued on. A thick, oily sap drenched jagged, ash-coloured bark. It had caught some decomposing birds in its slow, oozing poison. 

Hyrule kept his hands to himself and moved on, stepping over roots and around scraggily, dead bushes.

“Now,” Wind said, “where’s the fun in that?”

Hyrule kept quiet as they walked through the woods. The shadows became thicker, clingier, sticking in places they had never belonged. He thought he could hear them giggling at their own mischief.

“Eyes open,” Twilight called back, careful to keep his voice quiet so it wouldn’t carry into the heavy, still darkness. “We don’t want to be taken by surprise.”

Reaching back, Hyrule touched the hilt of the Magical Sword. It thrummed with want under his touch and he gripped the pommel, pulling it out just enough to hear steel sliding free of the scabbard.

Trees flinched back from the glare of the rubies, and Hyrule put it back with a sigh. He focused on the ground instead and at the prints pressed into the mud. Most were from the animals that had darted out of the woods, fleeing from whatever had made that sound.

But there were others. A set of footprints that moved past Time and Twilight.

They had been made by a pair of boots.

oOo

Braided leather snapped around Legend's snout, wrapping around his lower and upper jaw, slicing into thin fur-like feathers and green, armoured scales. Blood dripped past his exposed, crocodile teeth, and he tasted the metal as he tried to open his mouth.

Bursts of hot, plasma fire shot through his skull and he dropped his head down, breathing heavily through his nose, and looked into bright, crimson eyes that sat on a mirror image of his own face.

Dark Link pulled on the whip, forcing Legend to arch his neck and bring his head down.

Smoke billowed from draconic nostrils, spinning around the two of them. The glass in his throat flickered to life and magic from the fire rod burned against the back of his teeth.

 _I will kill you,_ Legend promised. His eyes narrowed into slits. _There will be no where you can run._

The whip tightened.

A wide, toothy smile stretched across Dark's face. It caught what little light the corrupted world provided and shone on his features with all the hatred and malice that had, could, and will ever exist.

_I'd like to see you **try**._

Jellyfish purple erupted from the handle, spinning around leather, arching over Legend's face. He whimpered and pulled as it sunk into his blood soaked flesh, pulled back as it sunk into his veins and slithered through his skull and down his spine.

The yawning mouth of the abyss waited for him and Legend could do nothing as Dark hummed and patted his cheek.

_“Good boy.”_

oOo

“I can do it myself!” Wind grumbled, arms crossed over his chest. He was glaring up at hand hovering inches away from his face.

Twilight, balanced between two tree roots, looked as though he'd rather be anywhere else.

“Yes, I know,” he said with the patience of a Sage, “but this is _much_ safer.”

Hyrule stepped around Wind—reaching the end of his own patience—took the hand, and allowed himself to be lifted over the swirling, jade coloured waters. He thought, for a second, that he could see the shadow of a Bago-Bago but, when he blinked, it was gone.

Time waited on the other side with Sky and they offered him a nod and a smile.

“Hey, what are you—”

Hyrule turned just in time to watch as Wild snatched Wind around the waist, spun around once, and flung the smaller hero like a sack of potatoes. Time stepped out of the way of the cursing cannon ball and Sky, wincing, reached out to at least try to stop his momentum.

Instead, the two of them crashed into each other, tumbling into the mud and laying there. Out of the bundle of limbs, weapons, and sailcloth came a single hand.

It pointed a middle finger in Wild's direction.

The champion hadn't noticed; he had already turned wiggling fingers and a broad smile to Four. “How about it?”

“No thanks,” the smallest of them said, walking around him to reach up towards Twilight. “You keep your grubby hands to yourself.”

Wild pouted, but stepped up after him, pursued by a grinning Warriors. Wind untangled himself from Sky, dark mud smeared down the side of his shirt, and shoved past Wild to go walk at the head of the group with Time.

Hyrule sighed, but fell into step behind them, his eyes on the darkness in the tree boughs, searching for any movement or glint of light. No breeze ruffled the leaves, no sounds drifted from the shadows.

There were no insects, no birds, no animals hiding away. Just the group's footsteps and breathing as they walked.

He knew the sound of silence well; how it consumed everything until his thoughts were too loud and his heart was his only company. How it could mean the difference between seeing the next dawn or finding a sword through his throat.

No one dared to speak and their breathing shifted, moving in tandem as they slipped like memories through the trees.

It was the only reason he heard the muffled, animalistic whine.

Hyrule reached forward and tapped the back of Time's armour with his nail. The group stopped when their leader did and he looked back with his one good eye.

 _Listen_ , Hyrule signed and cupped one hand around his ear as if to funnel the noise into it.

Time tilted his head to the side and frowned, eyes drifting over the silhouettes of tree trunks.

There was a second, dog-like whine. Sharper. _Louder_.

Pressing a finger against his lips, Time motioned them onward, keeping low and doing his best to silence the slight clanking of his armour. Beside him, Wind easily darted forward, nothing more than a slight breeze as he passed by dead, curled in plants.

The woods broke a few minutes later, opening up into a small clearing.

Sitting in the centre, was a dragon.

It was a long beast, more serpent than lizard, with six pairs of short, black legs. Gold rings and bracelets decorated the toes and wrists of the forelegs and glinted as talons clawed at something wrapped around a long wolf-crocodile shaped snout. Dark pink horns arched up from its head and sat between two long rabbit ears that were pressed against a patch of purple, white, and green fabric spread over its back.

A pair of folded green and white wings pressed against its sides, feathers fluttering at the edges of the navy and sapphire striped underbelly. The rest of the creature was pink like the pots that looked best when they held small, sharp cacti. Pink like roses whose thorns hadn’t been trimmed. Pink like nostalgia.

It whined and thick, dark blood dripped from its snout, splattering across the dried grass. Something cracked in the dark and its head snapped up, spinning around at impossible angles to look back.

Hyrule glimpsed its eyes: purple with pupils that were nothing more than thin slits. For a moment, he watched its sides heave in terror, watched as smoke swirled out of its nostrils.

The poor thing was in _pain_. It was _alone_.

(A child from long ago, before he picked up the sword from the old man in the cave, before he met a woman who gave him a destiny, lifted his hands and reached for the beast.

 _Me too_ , that child said, _me too_.)

Shrugging off his shield and his sword, Hyrule placed them as quietly as he could on the forest floor and slipped between Time and Wind. Fingers brushed against the back of his tunic but he was already darting forward, halfway across the clearing before those long ears snapped up and turned towards him. The long neck unwound back around and dark, purple eyes focused on him.

Hyrule stopped, lifting his hands.

The dragon snorted, getting to its feet. It was much longer than Hyrule had thought, stretching fifteen or so feet. A whip dangled from its muzzle, swinging back and forth. Crimson slid down the handle and soaked the silk wrapped around the wood.

“Hi,” Hyrule said, swallowed, and winced at the low rumble that vibrated through a long neck. “I’m here to help,” he offered empty hands.

It snorted, lips curling as much as they could to show off long, curved teeth meant for grabbing and ripping meat off bone. Pink fur rippled with every heaving breath as sharp, wide eyes watched the Hylian’s every move.

Lowering himself to the forest floor, Hyrule sat with his hands on his knees and his eyes on the dragon.

Dripping blood, thunderous heartbeats, and two sets of breathing were the only sounds in the clearing. They stared at each other, neither moving to get closer. Hyrule wondered if it would be easier to just magic the poor creature to sleep and remove the whip that way.

Before he could seriously consider that thought, the dragon lowered its head. The serpentine neck arched like the top of the full moon, and one of the ring decorated feet took a tentative step forward.

Hyrule held his breath and didn’t dare to move.

Another step. A third. A fourth.

(He fought the smile that threatened to grow on his face when he realized that the dragon was keeping its hind quarters exactly where they were and was stretching out to reach him.)

A wide, rabbit nose sniffed at Hyrule’s hair as the blood soaked whip knocking gently against his forehead. He let the dragon do what it pleased and sat perfectly still. It nudged his cheek, his chest, and pulled back with a snort. Smoke danced between them, swirling as it got caught in a tango before dissipating into the darkness.

Hyrule reached up, brushing his fingers against the beast’s chin.

There was a brief rumble in the back of its throat, but it didn’t pull away.

“That’s it,” Hyrule said, taking the handle of the whip in one hand. He rubbed the other over thick, green scales that lined the Dragon’s nose, careful to avoid where the leather had bitten into flesh. “That’s it.”

He unwound the first part of the whip and whispered soft words when the dragon whimpered. His voice blossomed with carefully cultivated power that planted itself in broken skin and knit together flesh. Around and around he went, gently tugging braided leather free.

Hyrule pulled the last of the leather away, coiling it around his hand like a cruel, blood soaked snake. He held it tight and felt magic spark beneath his nails.

Not even the ichor of a dragon could stop magical fire from consuming wood and leather.

Purple eyes that had once reflected every sharpened weapon Hyrule could have ever thought of had turned into wide, round-pupil pools. It pulled away, opening its mouth to where the young hero wondered if he would witness the bones of its head pop apart.

Teeth closed together with a crocodile _snap_ and the dragon wiggled its long, serpentine form. Even in the darkness, the pink fur looked like a wave as it shifted and twisted.

Hyrule could only describe it as a prance. The dragon was prancing; black talons digging small grooves in the dirt. Laughing as it blew thick, black smoke rings, Hyrule leaned back, his weight on his hands. “There,” he said, “that’s better, isn’t it?”

A nose pushed the Hylian onto his back. Sound vibrated up through the long throat, spinning into a strange, echoing coo. Just beyond curled, pink horns and green-shouldered wings, Hyrule could see the pink tail curling as it lifted, flicking back and forth. He dug his fingers over cheek-fur and almost melted at how soft it was under his fingers.

Maybe the creature was made of silk, or dreams, or storm clouds given flesh.

“Hi,” he said and laughed as it rested its head on his stomach. The size almost dwarfed Hyrule’s torso, but the great beast was gentle.

The dragon warbled, pupils blown into pleased circles. Purple swirled in them, growing and fading, revealing a kind, rose petal pink. It was swallowed, leaving nothing behind. Hyrule rubbed his fingers over the dragon’s brow, tracing the ridgeline, and reached for his pocket.

Legend had said that the Moon Pearl protected them from Ganon’s magic, perhaps...

Wood cracked in the forest behind him and Hyrule wished that he could place curses on people.

Pink whirled into motion, launching up and almost knocking Hyrule in the chin. Lips curled back and something hot—something _purple_ —exploded outwards. Hyrule flinched at the heat, covering his head with his hands.

Withered branches cracked and snapped, ignited by magical flame.

“Wait!” Hyrule cried as the blue striped underbelly passed over him, talons missing the soft flesh of his stomach and thighs. “Wait! It’s okay!”

He had the Moon Pearl in his hand, skin sweat-slick around it, but when he tried to roll out from underneath the ever flowing prison keeping him captive, there was no escape. A roar reverberated through his bones, pounded against his ribs. Hyrule pressed a palm against the scales above him. “Please,” he said. “Come on, _come on_.”

The dragon flinched back, hissing and spitting. Fire blossomed once again, arching across dry, dead earth.

“Let go of him!”

_Wind?_

“No!” Hyrule called, “wait! _Please_!”

Air roared around him, beaten to life by thunderous wings. He could see, just for a moment, a teenager in a blue lobster tunic, sword held above his head, eyes narrowed and staring down the maw of a beast opening above—

Hyrule tried to roll to freedom, catching the wide-eyed stare of Sky whose sailcloth looked crispy around the edges.

Weight hit his side, crunching against bone, knocking about his lungs like they were mere punching bags. Tips of talons dragged over his tunic, shredding it into useless bandages and sent him careening back, back, _back_ —

His hand hit a rock.

The Moon Pearl came loose.

Hyrule scrambled to get up, muscles numb, head aching.

He watched as it rolled across the grass, vanishing into the bushes.

Blood roared in his ears, creating a cacophony of the battle that shook the ground behind him. He gasped and panted and felt something wet smear across his mouth, sputtering with his useless breaths.

 _Please_ , he reached out his hand, a spell on the curve of his lips. _Please._

Magic struck, sinking its fangs into his chest, ripping through his bones and lungs to get to his heart. A howl formed in his throat, building behind lengthening teeth.

 _Oh,_ he thought, _I understand now._

oOo

Monsters through the ages had watched as a rabbit-hearted boy drew his sword and brought it down upon their heads again and again. They saw as his herbivore teeth sharpened to rip through meat, as he grew to watch them with predator eyes, as he grew and grew and _grew_...

Until he was a dragon.

oOo

Blood matted pink fur, smeared across scales, and stuck to white wings. It created a twisted macabre painting as the dragon spun to snap at one hero only for blades and arrows to find purchase in the side it had left exposed. Its tail hit Twilight in the chest and Wild’s bow buried ice into its shoulder. Claws swiped over Four’s head and the tip of Sky’s steel drew a line across its underbelly. Further they pushed it, pressing it back until trees created a makeshift wall behind it.

It hissed. It snapped.

The Biggoron Sword caught the edge of a horn and the dragon’s snout hit a tree. Wood splintered and its massive head landed on the ground. Heavy breaths blew smoke from its nose as thin sides heaved. Wounds oozed, rings glinted with hungry, desperate light, and purple eyes rolled to look up at Time.

There was fight in those eyes.

There was also exhaustion.

Steel lifted, firelight turning it into a blade of amber.

A shadow darted between them, standing guard over a creature of legend.

It was shaped as a survivor, as a scavenger, with scars mottling dark brown fur and pomegranate stained paws. Pointed ears were pressed against a round head, canine teeth bared in a snarl-bark, and familiar two-coloured eyes stared up at Time.

He froze. “Hyrule?”

The coyote straightened, ears snapping to attention. He barked.

Time lowered his sword and frowned. “What—”

Darting around him, the coyote headed for Four. The smallest hero stiffened, his hand tightening around the pommel of his sword, but froze as a nose pressed against his belt, sniffing, searching—

Hyrule took the small bag holding the Moon Pearls gently between his teeth and tugged.

“Oh? _Oh_ ,” Four pushed his nose away and untied it. “I only have one left—”

Plopping on the ground, Hyrule wagged his tail and sat like the statue of a Sphinx. He watched as Four dug out the small, purple orb, hesitate, then place it on the grass. Offering a yip of thanks, Hyrule leaned forward, pressed his nose to it, and closed his eyes.

The fangs of the Dark World shied away from his heart, fleeing back to the darkness. Fangs shrunk, his paws became hands, and he grabbed the Moon Pearl as he stood up.

“Hyrule, what—”

“Later,” he said, lifting his hand to the sky, and snapped his fingers.

A small, round object burst from the bushes, soaring through the air with a hunting whistle.

Hyrule caught it, placed Four’s into a pocket, and approached the dragon.

It still had its head on the ground, eyes half closed, breathing ragged.

“I’m so sorry,” Hyrule said, his voice like honey mixed with salt water. It caught in his throat and felt heavy on his tongue. “I should have—” He sat by the massive head and the dragon warbled weakly at him. With gentle fingers, Hyrule pulled its head into his lap, hugged his arms around its wide snout, and pressed their foreheads together. A horn dragged against his shoulder, the tip digging into his skin.

Hyrule didn’t care, and he placed the Moon Pearl against pink fur.

The dragon closed its eyes as it shrunk. A pair of legs vanished, the wings turned into fluttering stardust, and rabbit ears pulled in, their tips growing pointed as they shrunk. Pink fled, turning gold, turning blonde, until all that was left was on a single stripe of hair.

Legend, battered, bruised, and bleeding, pressed his face against Hyrule’s chest and wrapped his arms around his back. He shuddered, he shook, but he didn’t cry.

“It’s okay,” Hyrule murmured, his breath saturated with a spell of healing. “I’ve got you.”


	2. Epilogue

Link woke to the faint sound of crackling wood and fingers combing through his bangs. He was half curled on a bedroll, fingers of one hand tangled in a weather roughened cloth while the other was pressed protectively against his chest.

Insects buzzed close to his head and the smell of turned earth, of moss, of tree rot settled in the back of his nose like a physical thing. He breathed it in and let it settle in his sinuses. Thoughts darted out of reach and Legend let them go, digging his fingers into the dirt of his mind and sighing as they took root in the silence.

Wood clacked together, voices murmured out of reach, but he didn’t try to capture them. They existed and he let them. Like birds, like bugs, like beasts. He sighed and stretched out his legs, ready to settle in for a long hibernation.

Lightning struck through his chest, crackling along the bones and he grunted, pulled from the smells and sounds of the forest to crash down on the rocks. A pounding reverberated through his ribs, up his neck, between his teeth. Scratchy fabric was wrapped around his stomach and the sour-sweet taste of potions felt like it was rotting through the back of his mouth.

“Legend?”

Link grunted and curled back in, trying to reclaim some of that painless existence.

It slipped through his grasp, fleeing into nothingness.

Fingers brushed his bangs from his face, holding them against the crown of his head, and Link opened his eyes.

Blood dripped through the sky, saturating the heavens with a never-ending reminder of the cruelty that had stripped this world of its goodness long ago. What used to be the sacred realm throbbed around him; still an open wound despite the fact that, one day in the future, it would be mended and Ganon’s influence would be ripped away like a weed out of a garden that had been left to grow for too long.

For now, though, it was decaying like a corpse left out in a field.

“Legend?”

Link looked up and saw brown eyes flecked with green. He dragged his tongue along the front of his teeth and winced as the skin around his mouth pulled too tightly.

His hand pulled away from cloth and he reached up without thinking—

Fingers circled his wrist, stopping Link before he could touch. His eyes narrowed, focusing on the teenager hovering over him.

Brown hair was swept to the side, ruffled by the wind and curling ever so slightly at the tips. It framed his dark, freckled cheeks and the worry that widened his eyes and pinched his lips. There was a splatter of colour in his eyes; not just flecks of green, Link realized, but half and half. The tops were viridian and the bottoms were a warm, earthly shade.

They were like a forest, like a meadow. A reminder of the world he had some from and familiar like a word on the tip of his tongue.

“You—” His voice was choked, catching in the back of his throat.

“It’s okay,” the boy said, brushing through his hair one more time before pulling back. “You’re okay.” Glass clinked and a blue potion hovered in front of Link’s nose. “We didn’t know how much we could give you but—”

He grabbed the bottle and the liquid inside felt like it was eating the feverish heat out of his skin. Some of it splashed across his thumb, the cork already removed, and he gulped down the rest before thinking of any possible consequences.

(There were times, after all, where he had no choice. Kneeling on iron grates, on stone floors, on dirt, and in water. Hoping that the yellow, purple, blue, red, and green, would give more life to his bones as something with a monstrous shadow loomed over his head.

And he would get up.

Again.

Again.

 _Again_.)

Link gagged on the sour taste and swallowed it through years of practice. His head fell back down on the bedroll and he breathed as the icy heat curled in his chest like a tiger. It raked its claws along the sharpness of his jaw, the line of his stomach, the ache in his side. A needle of magic threaded his skin back together, patching the holes in his flesh.

The fingers returned to his hair and he pressed into them, gasping as he wrapped both arms around his chest. Magic worked with brisk, agonizing kindness. It stitched, it sculpted, it shifted.

Gritting his teeth, Link bit down on a scream as it blew over his face, climbing into his sinuses and taking root in his gums. His knees pressed against his chest and silence settled in the woods while he hissed and gasped and trembled.

The gentle hand in his hair never left. It combed through his bangs, smoothed over the top of his head, and settled, cool and tender, on the strung muscles in his neck.

Tiger claws loosened their hold and Link breathed through his nose, shuddering and waiting as it curled up against his lungs and settled, waiting for the next time he used magic to soothe his wounds. Sweat gathered on his brow and dripped down his cheek to roll off the edge of his nose.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he croaked.

“I know,” the kid above him said. His voice was careful, tiptoeing like it was afraid to disturb the trees around them. “Sleep. You’re safe.”

Link would have snorted if he had the energy. As it was, he could only rest his head on the bedroll and close his eyes.

oOo

Gasping awake, Legend clawed at the ground, searching, searching, _searching_ —

“It’s okay,” a voice murmured above him and fingers took his own, squeezing his bones so tightly that they pulled him out of his nightmares and back into dreams. “I’ve got you.”

oOo

There was no moon in the Dark World, no glittering watchful stars. The night was made of darkness and monster teeth, of hungry howls and mournful cries of the lost and the damned and those that never made it back.

Legend shuddered when he woke and felt as though eleven years had vanished. He was ten again, with bright pink hair and a sword too big that still managed to fit perfectly in his hand.

And then he breathed in the lightness of the night air and the world spun back into place.

Fire crackled at his heels, a blanket had been thrown over his shoulders, and his fingers were entwined with another’s. He stared at the hand in his own; the dark skin chipped away with pale, lightning scars, the dark fabric muddied by travelling, and the baggy sleeve of a green tunic.

Hyrule was curled on his side, lying on a bed of moss, and was using his arm as a pillow. There was a purpling bruise climbing from his shoulder up his neck and thick, dark shadows beneath his eyes, but he looked unharmed.

Legend tried to pull his fingers from the tight grasp and still at a groan.

Dark, multi-coloured eyes fluttered opened. The green and brown were shadowed with sleep, clouded by the remains of half formed dreams, and focused with striking speed.

“Hey,” Hyrule said, keeping quiet. “How’re you feeling?”

There was a throb of old injures now healed in his chest. Legend licked his lips. “Where’s your bedroll?” His throat was sore and he tried to clear it with a cough.

The younger hero narrowed his eyes. “You’re on it.”

“Huh,” Legend looked down at the ragtag weaving, the frayed edges, the small blood stains. “Where’s mine?”

“Probably in your bag.”

Which wouldn’t have let anyone but him pull something out of it. Legend groaned and rolled onto his back. “What the fuck happened?”

“You got the snot beaten out of you.”

“Ha,” Snorting, Legend laid his arm across his eyes. “Did someone deck me in the face?”

Hyrule hummed. “Not that I know of, why?”

Because the entirety of his mouth was _throbbing_. Legend ran the tip of his tongue along his back teeth. “No reason.”

“Uh huh,” Hyrule stretched out his legs and the bones in his knees popped. “Do you think I can’t handle it, then?”

Legend blinked and lowered his arm. “ _What_?”

“You’re in _pain_ ,” Hyrule’s eyes were sharp and almost glowing in the dark. “I can see it written all across your face.”

“I’m _fine_.”

“ _Stop lying_.”

The words snapped through the trees, crackling with the threat of lightning.

Hyrule sat up and his fingers curled into fists. “And stop being so stupidly _selfish_ ,” he hissed, not bothering to keep his voice lowered. “Let me _help_ you!”

“It’s not your _job_ to help me!” Legend sat up, leaning forward with a sneer twisting his lips. “My problems are my own; no one else’s. _Got it_?”

“You _idiot_ ,” Hyrule shoved the older hero back onto the bedroll. “I’m your _friend_. Worrying about you is my choice and my damn _privilege_. You don’t get to _choose_ how your friends feel. And you sure as hell don’t get to choose what they do or do not care about.”

Lying on his back, Legend could only stare up at the teenager above him with wide eyes.

“All you can do is trust that they’ll let you know when it’s too much for them to handle,” Hyrule continued, his voice softer. “But you have to _trust_ them.”

Legend breathed in and turned his head away. His hands were shaking so he buried them in the fabric of his tunic and held on. Wind rustled the tops of the trees but they were out of sight, swallowed by true darkness on the edge of their camp’s small fire.

“I’m bad at it too,” Hyrule told him. “But if you call me out on my bullshit, I promise I’ll call you out on yours.”

Snorting, Legend turned back over and offered him a small, pained smile. “That’s a _lot_ of bullshit.”

“That’s fine,” Hyrule said, lying back down on the moss. The amber of the fire played across his face, casting it into a frame of a young boy who faced a demon king despite impossible odds and still won. “You’ve got plenty of shovels.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dedicated to train who recced this fic on the lu discord and reminded me that people do care about it.
> 
> and to nickel who never stopped caring in the first place.

**Author's Note:**

> the chinese dragon symbolizes success, high achievement, and prosperity. it brings new beginnings, abundance, and relief. 
> 
> 老鼠万岁萬歲


End file.
